


Too much has happened

by kshitij1997



Series: Too much has happened [1]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Frozen - Anderson-Lopez & Lopez/Lee
Genre: Angst and Romance, F/M, Gen, Loneliness, Long-Distance Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24875971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kshitij1997/pseuds/kshitij1997
Summary: Will they be condemned? Will they be forgiven? Is there any hope for them? Hard to say, as too much has happened
Relationships: Elsa & Hans (Disney), Elsa/Hans (Disney)
Series: Too much has happened [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799971
Kudos: 9
Collections: ❄❄❄





	1. Correspondence

Chapter 1: Correspondence

_Elsa_

It had been a few months since the accident. The moment that estranged me, enslaved me, rendered me a freak, an anomaly.

A monster.

An animal to be caged in.

I hated it; everything that had happened, everything that I had ended up doing by my hands. How Anna was almost killed by my carelessness and now she was paying the price for it.

I had no one, not my parents, not my sister, not even myself, for nowadays I couldn’t even look in the mirror.

The days felt like forever wrapped in a jiffy, excruciating to live through, yet somehow I couldn’t remember any of it. Except the feeling of a ball ready to burst at the seams. I couldn’t sit silent anymore, too much had happened, and I was going insane not expressing it.

The day before, one of the servants had suggested writing a correspondence; a letter to someone afar. Someone who could write back. Someone to tell, someone who could understand.

_One who could judge me without my terrible powers._

Wherever they would be didn’t matter; all it took was one returned message, so that I could feel better for once; so that I could have _hope._

No use crying about it and losing control yet again; if I was to be a wreck, the least I could do is express it without causing chaos. She I tried singing, drawing, sculpting, even meditation, but none would bring her peace. My emotions always ran havoc when I sang, the drawing was but a pale facsimile of what I was capable of and sculpting meant I had to let my powers run free. The meditation brought me torturous questions I couldn’t answer; _what if I had just slept that night? Was it going to happen sooner or later? What if Anna died-_

_No! I could never let that happen, never again._

I hadn’t tried a correspondence yet, what was another pebble thrown in the river?

I spun the globe in my room and placed a finger on a random place at a random time. _The Southern Isles it was._

I sighed, at least writing was one activity I could do mechanically. Moreover, it was just one letter; one letter couldn’t hurt.

I sat on her desk and chair, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper and quill ready in hand. And yet......

And yet, the words wouldn’t come.

It was a blank feeling of sinking I had grown familiar to recently; a story threatening to tear my mind apart, but my stubborn hands and fingers wouldn’t budge or give quarter. An avalanche inside a statue, that’s how I felt.

I steeled myself regardless; even if it is trite, I’ll write it. If it is to be a blank page with a line tearing through it, that is what I want them to know.

So I began to write:

_To whomever receives this,_

_Hi, this is princess Elsa from Arendelle. I hope you are doing well. I just wish to talk. Help me, too much has happened. If you find this, please return with a reply to the address below:_

_The Fjord Castle,_

_Arendelle city,_

_Kingdom of Arendelle,_

_Northern Europe._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Princess Elsa of Arendelle._

I folded the paper, put it in an envelope, tied it to one of the messenger pigeons that migrated south every winter, and set it free, hoping against hope that someone from the Southern Isles found it.

* * *

_Hans_

I had grown so sick of my twelve brothers. Couldn’t these bunch of hawks just leave me alone? Coming last in the pecking order was bad enough, even worse was that the world would never let me forget it. In my eight years of life back then, I could have spent the rest of my days announcing to the world how my twelve brothers persecuted their pet runt.

No, just runt, for even the bloodhounds were treated with more respect, and my father hated those dogs. Those pests just got in the way, tearing at the feasts, no respect, no order, nothing.

Oh, I wish I had a bullet for each of those devils, would serve them right for trying to run me down and cripple me with their bloody jaws, courtesy of the gang of bullies that were my brothers.

Come to think of it, I had managed to stab one in self-defense, the others ran like the cowards they were, but those bloody rats ratted me out, and I got the thrashing of my life from my ever so imposing father.

There I was, recovering from bruises both canine and human in the infirmary. I remembered how I was so livid at them all, I threatened to burn down the palace. The nurse heard me and said, ‘Your highness, you are truly fearless, announcing your death wish to the world. But true courage is in living, find something worth living for. A friend, for example.’

That nurse spoke way above her worth, but she had a good idea there. Trouble was, even the runt was better than the common rabble plaguing the streets every day. There I was, not low enough to be trash with others; not high enough to walk in steps with the giants. Just little old me, a footnote waiting to be forgotten.

_Maybe I could tell someone about it?_

As if the stars were winking at me, a messenger pigeon landed on the windowsill near my sickbed. Tied to it was a small envelope. It wasn’t addressed to anyone, just a deep blue envelope inside which there was a message and the sender’s address. As I went through the contents of the short letter, the first thing I thought was _is she dying? In that case I can’t help her._

_No, it was foolish to presume. Maybe she’s just lonely. But she is a royal, just like me. Isn’t she surrounded by people everywhere? Wouldn’t she be sick of them?_

_Or maybe she’s also looking for a friend. Guess that nurse was right, having a friend wouldn’t hurt._

Mind you, I only wrote an equally short note:

_Greetings your highness,_

_I could be doing better. I know I’ll be well if I can listen to your thoughts. Too much has happened here as well, things I wish I could forget._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Prince Hans of the Southern Isles._


	2. Sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Frozen characters belong to Disney
> 
> Onward with the story :)

_Elsa_

The fools, the mad fools. I warned them. Not to go in the middle of winter. They never understood what I could be capable of, even if I didn’t mean to do anything.

My father, god rest his lost soul, gave me gloves to hide in. Not going to lie, I had no love for them. They were crushing, stifling, a step above handcuffs and chains; that’s what they were, nothing else.

And yet, they had the strangest power over me. Once I wore them, I could pretend to be normal. I remember being peaceful and happy after a long time, little knowing that my dastardly powers would always find a way.

It had felt good to be close to Anna after a long time, goodness she was warm. Like a comforting hot coal under the bed. And then, like the rudest, merciless blast of polar wind on my face, my powers make their surroundings unwilling hosts. _My powers are uncouth, they have no respect for anything, not even family time._

God bless her innocence, but Anna didn’t notice the leaking of my powers. I remember thanking the heavens above for the natural snowfall. But nature couldn’t come to my rescue every time.

In that moment I had a terrible realization; _I was the flame, and Anna was the moth attracted to me, doomed to be burnt upon contact, or frozen in my case_. How could I let that happen? She yearned for my company, as a baby sister would do for a sibling. And I was to be her doom. No, never. If she couldn’t stop hovering around me, I had to extinguish myself _. For how else could she be saved, if she roamed back to her destruction with such a free heart?_

I promised to myself, I’d extinguish my feelings, my passions, I’d be hollow, so that she may come back to me safely. I’d need to conceal it; I can’t let it ebb out. She’d hate me forever, but that’s the road I had to choose. _Better alive than dead._

But it was torture, getting my powers tethered. I could hear them cursing, throwing profanities at me, rendering me worthless. Even the gloves had begun to betray me. I writhed in pain under the strain, the pressure, the impossible task. This terrible vow I had taken began choking me along with my powers. And Anna’s voice, ever present at the door, calling me out, shattered my resolve every day.

It had been ages since I sang, since I’d done anything creative, since I’d allowed myself to enjoy good food, pleasure. I’d let the food go tepid on purpose, so that I wouldn’t have an emotional reaction to it. I refused to take interest in a typical book, one reason being that it would do nothing to help me in my real life, another reason was I couldn’t risk getting invested for reasons that should seem obvious by now. Experiencing pleasure? Out of the question.

But no matter how it made my life easier, it made no less painful the feeling of helplessness when Anna began confronting me more often. All it took was one question, a particular question came to mind all too often.

‘Why wouldn’t you say anything? Don’t you love me?’

It took every ounce of strength in my fragile body to just walk away, else I would have dug a whole right there and buried myself alive. _If only I could tell her._

And then I saw the manacles my parents had built. They were designed to cover my whole hand, to constrict if my powers started acting up. Ho, even those I looked up to now had lost hope. And now they were dead.

I was in this fight alone, for even Anna had had enough. The last time I heard her voice, she tearfully sang ‘Do you want to build a snowman’ at my door, but I was savvy enough to listen the unspoken words _‘Please open the door, I don’t know how to carry on. Please open the door, else I’ll give up.’ There went my anchor, broken off my ship, sinking into the abyss, while I was to float adrift now, till the end of my days, without direction and destination._ I’m not ashamed to admit it, I wept and mourned the loss of three people that night. _Damn my powers, if they were so itching for action, I had no strength or will left to hold them back._

And so, the bedroom turned white once again, echoing the ballroom so long ago.

I would have given up the ghost, had it not been for the correspondence I had started with Hans. Even that had become a chore as of late, but it had given me something to do in my darkest days.

Not because it was tough. In fact, it became as simple and natural as breathing. I had become a very descriptive writer; any natural philosopher would be impressed at my self-description before putting me in a cage. As for Hans, he did have a sense of humour about himself I couldn’t even imagine having. His wit shone through his letters, even if he was suffering something like I was. My writing to him had decreased recently, but I always looked forward to his stories of his home and abroad. Despite my oath not to feel, my heart used to soar in excitement when he regaled the stories of his exploits and travels, how he much preferred being a sailor to being a prince. At least one of us could change for the better. I often wondered how he felt about my whining. His life was so much more glamourous, intrepid and free. _How I wished I could be beside him._

_I wondered how he’d take this news. He’d probably show some irritation at the irresponsible choice to sail in winter, but he’d mostly be sympathetic. Not good enough, I wanted his genuine anger and other feelings, I’d had my fill of fake sympathies. Maybe someday, I could tell him about my powers too, maybe he’d find them appealing?_

And so, I wrote:

_Dear Hans,_

_I hope a life at sea has treated you well so far, I remember you were so happy when you finally got a ship to command. I remember the name as well; the North Constellation wasn’t it? Oh, that flagship of yours must be magnificent to see in person! I wish I could see it someday. As for me, you should know by now that a mundane note with a rare amusing anecdote means that I’m doing well. This is not one of those letters._

_It has been a week since the funeral I didn’t attend. Since then all I’ve done is avoid people, take a sharp turn if anyone approaches me for small talk. The phrase ‘the king and queen are dead, long live the queen’ rings heavier by the day in my ears. God I wish the day may never come when I truly must ascend to the purple, for the sheer prospect terrifies me. I haven’t been sleeping, or eating very well this past week, though that can be explained I guess. The difference this time is that I’m feeling too many things at once, I have been feeling too much. My baby sister finally gave up, not that I blame her. I swear I’m king Midas in reverse, everything I touch turns worthless and unusable. I couldn’t even stop my parents from sailing to their imminent doom. I knew it could happen, but they didn’t listen, the lunatics. Those lunatics. They won’t ever listen to anyone, why should I grieve for them now? They couldn’t find common ground about me once, why would anyone expect them to have a solution? Bloody demented bats. I hate them. I hate how they treated my case, how they made me believe I was what I was. And yet....and yet, why did it have to be them? I wailed not because I was sad, I wept in derision, in frustration when I found out. The little sense of security, or even power that I had went with them. I still remember across the hall hearing Anna shout, ‘Nobody is anything to her now! Not my father, my mother and certainly not me. Just existing in her bubble, god knows what she’s concocting in there. Well, she’s welcome to stay alone, I’m done!’ I fashioned an ice dagger right then and there to plunge in my heart, but I stopped. I stopped when Anna came to my door to apologize. When she left and I recovered from the shock, I decided I would hold on till Anna gets settled somewhere. Someone she could have a happy life with. And then, I’ll fade to white._

_Thank you Hans, for listening to my story, however short it was. You pulled me through my darkest days, but this is different, I can’t saddle this terrible burden on you. I set you free from the correspondence. Live long, fall in love and don’t worry about me._

_Yours Thankfully,_

_Elsa_

* * *

_Hans_

It was a sombre and dismal mood in the castle, with my father the king being chief architect of said mood. You see, earlier that day, my father had to answer for the deaths of two of his own sons. Apparently, they were charged with treason and conspiracy against the crown. Number five and number six in the running. Leif and Gustav if you’re curious about names. On my part, I could never imagine that Leif and Eric of all people would have the guts to do that. I remember then being poets and musicians; Leif could play the fiddle just like Vivaldi; he was a rambunctious sort who loved the outdoors. Loved the shade and could swing a tune with the best of them.

I don’t know why I reminisced so much about Leif once he was gone; maybe it was instinctual, primal to remember the good times, but I couldn’t find one moment when he was hostile towards me. Maybe the fact that we were separated by a gap of ten years made him protective, or least less of a bully to me. He knew there’d be no worthy fight there, so he just let me be, one of the few who did. He was a musician, an artist, the kind my father detested; according to him “The creative thought is the seed of defiance.” What other reason would be to my father’s actions, when Leif was captured in a different country, accused of lighting the flames of rebellion in the kingdom, deemed a traitor marked for execution after torture. Bless his poor soul, but the poor sod succumbed and died to torture. As for Gustav, well. That joker used to crack jokes and pull pranks all over. I enjoyed his shenanigans when I wasn’t the butt of them. He didn’t agree with how Leif was being treated , and despite everyone’s warnings, thought of getting Leif out of father’s custody, his great blaze of glory. Alas, he was shot dead before they could even recognize who it was.

_Not that it affected my father, who had coldly disposed of their belongings, as if they never existed. Fewer people for him to care about._

I don’t know why it affected me so; they were pleasant but distant. I guess living with them for so long would leave an impression. And now, they were gone.

_I wish I’d known them better; it would at least have been entertaining. They were probably one of the good ones._

Whatever I felt about them, I knew I had to write to Elsa. She hadn’t been doing so well two months ago, I just wanted to know that she was alright; losing her parents would not have helped one bit.

_My conflicted feelings could wait, for now, her definite feelings needed acknowledgement._

Just then, her trusty messenger pigeon landed on the windowsill in my room. I practically sprinted towards the bird, tore open the envelope to read what was written. My heart sank like a stone when I read it.

_Oh no! OH NO! This cannot be happening!_

I had never panicked so severely in my whole life. I was so shocked I didn’t bother with the quill this time. Just tore off a sheet, scribbled onto it with a charcoal pencil. I’m not terribly proud of what I wrote:

_Hey Elsa,_

_What the hell happened to you?! What in god’s name is going on in there? Don’t do anything stupid. Remember the song we talked about long ago, the one about the lost sheep, the wolf, mother nature and the shepherd? The-the whatever the hell...yeah the sheep. Remember, you aren’t the wolf, you are no predator, you aren’t mother nature, you won’t doom anyone. You are the lost sheep, trying to find your way home, have faith in the shepherd, do you understand! Please don’t do anything someone could regret. God’s sakes, girl. I lost a couple of my brothers I didn’t even know very well they were that distant; I haven’t been able to stop thinking about then for the last seventy-two hours. What is Anna going to feel if you do something unsavoury? I’m sorry for using improper words, but don’t fucking do anything you can’t come back from. Hold on in there, Els. Don’t carry this alone, write to me more often please, I’m in the off season, I’ll be at palace itself. I know you don’t owe me anything, but please hold strong. I have nowhere else to turn to._

_Don’t do anything stupid, please don’t. You mean a lot to me. I promise, I’ll help you get better, I’ll even give you a ride in my flagship, we’re going to tour the world! I swear on my mother, I’ll save you. I won’t let you go down the way my brothers did._

_Please let me help you. Please._

_Yours in every moment of need,_

_Hans_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entry was so depressing, but I'm glad I wrote it through.  
> Well, the story's on its way. Maybe they'll meet next time?  
> As always, constructive feedback is always welcome.


End file.
